


Self-Indulgent Love for an Android

by shereadwhatshewrote



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Chest Binder, Dancing, Fluff, Gender Dysphoria, Genderfluid, Heavy Petting, Kissing, Light Petting, Other, Panic Attack, Sex Pollen, Sexual Frustration, data in a suit because fuck you, liz evans is the oc my good dudes, liz is pan and genderfluid and that will be addressed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:55:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21546424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shereadwhatshewrote/pseuds/shereadwhatshewrote
Summary: Self-insert fic that can be read as a reader insert. I left my OC's name in, but feel free to read it as (Y/N)!Licherally just a bunch of semi-related oneshots for my OC, Liz Evans and Data. She's the chief of operations on the Enterprise.
Relationships: eventual Data/Liz
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	1. Haircuts Fall Under the Scope of My Duties, Right?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His hair drives me INSANE so I fixed it bye

“Oh my god, no, _no._ This is not going to work for either of us.”

Starting out as the new chief of daily operations had presented more challenges than expected. Putting together lengthy reports on replicated food and substances by non-crew members, problem-solving when issues with the uniform washers persisted despite no obvious breakage, insisting upon health and cleanliness standards despite the resentment of particularly slobby persons. But nothing posed as much a challenge as witnessing the atrocious haircut sported by the resident android.

“To what do you refer?” His query was accompanied by a tilted head, a curious expression.

“ _This!_ ” I circled him, reaching up to poke and fuss at the mess the back of his head. “You’re a Starfleet officer of significant rank and decoration, you should at least look like it. Are you particularly busy right now, Data?” He shook his head, then followed after me as I took off at a brisk pace towards the salon.

Ah, the soft smells of creams and mousses, the gentle snipping sounds. “ _Sit._ ” My firm suggestion produced the desired result: his butt in a baber’s chair. “I normally wouldn’t do this myself, but this nonsense has to stop.” I picked up a pair of scissors and a comb, settling behind him to work my magic. Half an hour later, I spun him around to face the mirror.

“What do you think? Now, if you don’t like it, we’re gonna have a problem, but I’m sure you can grow it back out again in no time.” He turned his head this way and that, admiring at different angles. I had mostly snipped off the hair on the back of his head, stopping it from draping over his neck. I had shortened some of the rest, resulting in a more clean-cut, slicked appearance.

“I believe this haircut provides an interesting change in appearance for me.”

“Is that your way of saying you like it?”

He looked up and back at me, away from the mirror. “Indeed. Thank you for your services.”

“That’s it? I forcibly give you a haircut in the middle of your day, do my best to make you laugh with funny faces in the mirror, and I get a ‘thank you for your services?’” I pinched the bridge of my nose, sighing deeply. “Look, Data… I like you. I think you’re hilarious, and I want to be your friend. But you’re not exactly giving me a lot to work with here.”

He stood and removed the cape from his neck. “I did not realize that these were gestures of friendship. Do you give all of your prospective friends haircuts?”

I laughed, setting down the scissors and comb to slap his upper arm lightly. “No, Data. It’s just your haircut drove me bonkers. Now that we’ve fixed that problem, do you see any reason why we shouldn’t be friends?”

Another tilt of his head, a curious expression. “I do find your presence enjoyable. I believe we will be, as they say, ‘fast friends.’”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like what you're reading, please consider leaving Kudos or comments, they mean the world to me!


	2. Breakup Comforts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liz goes through a breakup, Data goes a little overboard.

“Data…?”

“Yes?”

“Why are you sitting in my quarters, and why do you have ice cream and wine?” My friend had sat himself on the sofa in my quarters, surrounded with a multitude of bowls and bottles.

“Geordi told me that you had a “bad breakup.” I researched what friends are supposed to do in this circumstance, and the most common approach was to provide sweet confections and inebriants, as well as my company.” He stood, and gestured to the mess behind him. “You have mentioned your appreciation for moscato, but I had no frame of reference as to which ice cream you would prefer. So I replicated a variety for you.”

I laughed and stepped forward. “Is it alright if I hug you, Data?” He nodded and held his arms out, and I embraced him, concealing my laughter in his chest. Then I stepped away to grab a bowl. Chocolate, it looked like. “You didn’t have to do this, Data, but I’m so glad you did.” I curled up on the couch, cradling the bowl. I patted the spot next to me, and he sat, in his usual stiff manner.

“Geordi was right. It was bad.” And so I launched into the story of me and Gabrielle, how we met and started dating, how she was wooed by a visiting dignitary who wanted her for a wife. How she accepted, and left today. All the while, I had stuffed myself full of mint, chocolate, cinnamon ice cream, and probably too much wine. At some point, I had leaned into Data, curling into his side with my feet tucked up underneath me.

“And _then,_ ” I said, gesturing with my half-full glass, “she said that we could still talk, through a subspace channel. A subspace channel! God, why she would even suggest that is beyond me.”

“Perhaps she would still like to enjoy your company despite the distance and lack of romantic association.”

“I mean _yeah,_ but why would I want to? Talking to her would only hurt more.”

“Why is that, Liz?”

I turned and squinted at him. I had forgotten that he didn’t have emotions, not like humans at least. “Data, when you sever a romantic relationship with someone, there’s a lot of pain involved. You tend to feel unwanted, inadequate. Talking to the other person or people usually brings those feelings back up, and reminds you that they’re doing okay while you still awful. That’s doubly so if they’ve found someone else. Does that make sense?”

He looked down, nodded, and said, “I suppose so. Do you still feel unwanted and inadequate?”

I had to laugh at that, just a bit. “Not as much, Data. It still stings, but I feel a little better knowing that my friends care about me enough to try and make me feel better.” I patted him on the arm and rested my head on his shoulder. It was comfortable, even if I was a bit sleepy.

A long moment of silence, and then he spoke. “Liz, I have a question of a sensitive nature. Would you mind if I asked it?”

“Not at all.”

“Am I correct in assuming you are only attracted to women?”

Another laugh. Was he always this funny, or was I more tipsy than I realized? “No, Data. I think almost everyone is attractive. Men, women, anyone in between. I usually just have to find them kind, and funny, and aesthetically pleasing. Why do you ask?”

“A frame of reference for future romantic partners.”

“For you or for me?” He looked puzzled, like he didn’t understand the question. “Nevermind, it doesn’t matter. Well,” I sighed, patting his leg, “I should probably head to bed and you should probably check on Spot.” I stood with a grunt, swaying slightly.

“You no longer require my company?”

“I always love having you around, but unless you’re gonna cuddle me to sleep, it’s time to go.” He nodded and stood, and began walking towards the door. “And Data?” He stopped, turned around. I stood on my tiptoes to press a light kiss to his cheek. “Thanks for tonight. You really did help me feel better.”

“I am glad that I could alleviate any negative feelings the termination of your relationship with Gabrielle may have caused. Have a good rest.” And with that he was gone, probably to work at his console with Spot nestled in his lap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like what you're reading, please consider leaving Kudos or comments, they mean the world to me!


	3. Obligatory Sex Pollen Fic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anyone else remember the good ol' sex pollen trope?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as with the rest of this fic, this is pure garbage

Sex pollen, that’s what the doctor on the comms had called it. Of course, that was before it had spread through the ship like wildfire. Now there were crew members sucking face and groping along the halls without shame. I’d had my ass smacked by a passing crewman, and felt a rush of warmth run through my veins. _Oh no,_ I thought, _there’s no way I’m turning into one of these bastards, nearly fucking along every hallway._ I began jogging to my quarters, ignoring the flushing in my face and the sudden feeling of needing to jump every person I passed.

That is, until I ran into someone. I crashed into a hard form, nearly falling on my ass in the process. Before I could fall, however, hands grabbed me and set me back on my feet.

“Data!” I exclaimed. “Oh, god, I hope it won’t affect you too.” I smoothed out my pants, trying to avoid looking at him. I’ll be damned if I did something stupid.

“The spores?”

“Of course, the spores. I got infected a little while ago, but I don’t know if I can even pass it on yet or if you’re even susceptible, or-”

“Liz, are the spores transferred through touch?” He was looking over his hands, examining them closely.

“Yeah, why?”

“I believe I have become infected. Curious.”

“Oh, _shit!_ ” I said, and grabbed his hand.

“Where are we going?” I could have sworn there was a suggestive tone in there. Maybe it was the pollen talking, but I wouldn’t mind if- no no no.

“My quarters. If anyone can stop me from bedding everyone in sight, it’s an android.” He began jogging alongside me, and in a few moments, we had arrived. When the door slid shut behind me, I locked it.

It took every ounce of willpower not to push Data on the couch and make out like a teenager, but I managed. Instead, I sat on one end and gestured to the other. “So my understanding,” I said, gesturing with my hands, “is that you tend to document when you encounter a new life form, right?”

He nodded. “That is correct.”

“... don’t you think you should be recording our experiences? A good comparison of human and… android… responses…” I trailed off, finally looking up at him to see him staring at me, an inscrutable expression meeting mine. “Data?”

“Ah, yes. Recording information relevant to our situation.” He made no other movements, however, remaining still. I could practically hear his positronic brain from here.

“Data. Are you listening, Data?”

“I… seem to be more susceptible to the spore than Geordi and Doctor Crusher originally thought.”

I grabbed a pad of paper and a pencil, starting to jot down some of my symptoms.

_\- distractability_  
\- lack of focus  
\- sexual arousal  
\- flushed visage  
\- heart palpitations 

The pad was pulled slowly from my hands, given a strong look-over by the android who seemed so much closer to me than just a moment ago. “‘Distractability’ is not a word, Liz. I believe it holds the same meaning as ‘lack of focus.’” I yanked the papers back into my grasp, striking through the first item on the list.

“What about you, what are your symptoms?” I asked, handing back the pad and pencil to him. His list was quickly written, and very similar to mine. I didn’t realize that I was leaning over to look at the list until we both looked up at each other, faces only inches apart.

“I seem to be experiencing an intense bout of symptom number three on your list.” His hand came up to my face, brushing a strand of hair away from my face, fingers barely ghosting against my cheek.

“I’m experiencing that, as well. I believe it might be prudent to avoid resisting the effects of the spore. Do you agree?” I looked at him from underneath my lashes, suddenly timid at the thought of rejection.

“We would be acting out of the ordinary. It may have unintended consequences on our future friendship. Do you wish to continue with the current situation, or shall I remove myself from your quarters?”

I didn’t answer him verbally. Instead I climbed on top of him, placing my thighs on either side of his and pressing our lips together. He responded in kind, placing his hands on my waist and kissing back.

Kissing an android was different than I thought it’d be. He was methodical, conforming to my patterns and letting me lead, though his hands stayed firmly planted on my waist. It progressed naturally. Well, as naturally as it could given the fact that we were both being seriously affected by sex pollen. Either way, the kiss deepened, and I found myself moving against him, searching for any sort of friction.

And there came my surprise. An erection, clear as day between my thighs. I didn’t even know that he had sexual organs, let alone ones that would respond to my touch. Either way, it provided the friction that I wanted, pressed against me firmly through each of our pants.

I never even realized that I had begun grasping at his hair, not until he responded in kind. He pulled my hair away from our faces, fingers grazing my scalp and making me shiver. The only things I was aware of was his body on mine, the sensations that it caused, the waves of want that rocked through me.

That is, until something was pressed to my arm, chasing that delicious fire from my veins. My senses opened again, revealing the shape of a nurse, holding a hypospray to Data now. He left quickly, angrily muttering about the amount of asses he’d seen in the past half-hour alone. We watched him leave in silence, turning back to each other once the door was once again closed.

“Well. This was. Um. Let me just…” I stood, brushing the wrinkles from my shirt and refusing to look him in the eye. He stood as well, smoothing his hair back into its usual shape.

“You seem to be self-conscious. Are you uncomfortable with our previous actions?”

“No, I just… I wouldn’t have done that if I was in my right mind. I didn’t not like it, I’m just not clear-headed enough to think about how this affects us right now. Is that okay?”

He nodded, then spoke. “I am also uncertain of how this affects us. Would you like to be alone now, Liz?”

I nodded, sending him a brief smile to say Hey, I’m Not Upset At You At All. And then he was gone, leaving me alone in my quarters exactly as I had left them this morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like what you're reading, please consider leaving Kudos or comments, they mean the world to me!


	4. Sex Pollen pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confrontation after a sexually charged encounter? You got it!

I hadn’t seen Data very much since the sex pollen incident. That was normal, though, as his work on the bridge and in engineering rarely coincided with my work running around the ship. The few times I had seen him, though, I’d gone out of my way to be busy, to read something on a PADD or engage in a conversation. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see him, or that I was embarrassed, it’s that the thought of him made my cheeks warm, my stomach fill with butterflies.

Yes, it was irrational to think of an android in a romantic light, but I couldn’t help it. He was so kind, so generous to others with his time and praise. His little infodumps were precious, like a schoolboy excitedly reporting in what he had learned during the school day. Of course, it didn’t help that our last interaction was so sexually charged.

The report that I was supposed to be reviewing kept slipping from my mind, replaced with the memory of that friction between my thighs, of the pressure of hands on my waist, the slip of another tongue against mine. I sighed and cast the report to the side. No use trying to work like this.

The food replicator was calling my name. A mug of hot chocolate, and after it materialized, a bowl of chicken noodle soup. I had just settled in at my desk when the chime rang, signalling a visitor. Another sigh. “Come in.” They would just have to deal with me having lunch during whatever they wanted.

“Ms. Evans.” Data’s greeting came from the doorway as he approached.

“Since when have I been ‘Ms. Evans?’ You’ve always called me Liz.”

“That is the topic that I wished to discuss. May I?” He gestured to the seat facing me, and sat after I nodded. “I believe you have been avoiding me. I was initially unsure if that was true, but after consulting several of our friends, that conclusion seems to be correct.” I didn’t respond, having been stuffing my mouth full of soup the entire time he was talking. He waited for my response, hand folded on the desk in front of him and expression inscrutable. I could wait no longer, having pussifooted around an answer by pushing the remaining contents of my bowl around with a spoon.

“Data, mostly it wasn’t intentional. You know that our schedules are vastly different, so it was really just an ordinary week. Besides, everyone’s been a little off since… uh…”

“Since the sex pollen incident?”

“Yeah. I guess… I guess I was just uncomfortable. You know that we said we didn’t know how our, um. _Actions._ Would affect our friendship, and we were right. I guess _my_ question is… have your feelings towards me changed at all?” I still couldn’t look at him, absorbed entirely in the ridges and ripples in the whipped cream topping my mug.

“I do not have feelings of any kind, Liz.”

“You know what I mean.” I felt his gaze fall from my face, and chanced a look upwards at him. He was looking down, absorbed in thought.

“I suppose,” he began, looking up at me again, “that I have felt your absence more _acutely_ than other friends this past week. Everyone has withdrawn slightly, but I sense a different… sentiment and yearning for your presence.”

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “Data, I’m glad. It’s good that you’re getting more in touch with your… sentiments.” Everyone I had talked to agreed that Data had feelings, even if he didn’t recognize them as such. His reactions to situations and people, his hobbies and obvious affection for Spot and Geordi, it all showed that on some level, he _felt._ I didn’t expect him to feel like this, but it was a good sign nonetheless. “I suppose you’re wondering how I’m feeling. I did miss you, Data, but as a silly human, I’ve let my emotions and get the better of me.” He raised an eyebrow, a silent request for elaboration. “Look, intimacy and emotions are inextricably linked for us. So last week when we were… somewhat intimate, it made me feel things. For you. In a not entirely platonic way.” He seemed to be considering, and I took this opportunity to scoop some whipped cream into my mouth, relishing the sweet against this less-than-savory situation.

“Your non-platonic feelings, are they romantic in nature?” He seemed genuinely invested in my answer, so I might as well provide a genuine one.

“Romantic, sexual, yeah. Does that bother you?”

“No.” The response came much faster than anticipated. I blinked slowly, trying to comprehend.

“And… I guess I’m asking how that changes our dynamic. Care to weigh in?”

“It would be remiss of me not to mention that all of my previous attempts at maintaining a romantic relationship have failed. However, I did not sense the same… bond with the others. Perhaps that was the element that I was missing.” He stood, inclined his head at me, and began to walk away.

“Data, wait. What are you saying?” His face suggested perplexion. I think that he thought the conversation was over, but I was just as confused as I had been a few minutes ago.

“Was I not clear?”

I sighed, coming around to sit on my desk and pull him back down into a chair. “No, Data. Sometimes you assume that everyone makes the same connections when presented with information. You know that that positronic brain of yours is advanced, so you need to remember that not everyone is as astute as you.”

“My apologies. I did not realize that I had done so. Does that happen often?”

I laughed, just a little. “No, dude. Just when you’re talking to someone who isn’t a genius. Like me. Now, the facts: there is a bond between us, and all of your past romantic relationships have failed. What conclusion did you draw from that information?”

“There is more information than that to consider, Liz. For example, you find me to be a suitable romantic interest. We previously engaged in intimacy, which I am told is a factor in forming relationships. Also, a bond was not previously established in my prior endeavors.”

“Okay, Mr. Brainiac, you still didn’t answer my question. What conclusion did you come to?”

“We should engage in a romantic relationship.”

Shock. Shock and incomprehension. I had never actually considered that any sort of relationship other than pure friendship could possibly develop between us. I sat there, mouth gaping like a fish for a good minute before my brain unscrambled enough for a reply.

“Geez, take a girl out for dinner first…” It was half mumbled, and I couldn’t help but look away, around the room, anywhere but those golden eyes. When I finally managed to drag my gaze back to him, he was giving me a questioning look, not understanding my half-mangled words. “I just… that’s a hell of a way to ask someone out, Data. I’m not opposed,” I said, raising a hand to cut off whatever he was about to say. “But jeez. Uh. So. How would you suggest that we begin a relationship?”

“Most literature on the subject maintains that a shared meal is the proper way to start. However, you have already eaten, and I do not require sustenance.”

“How about a date, then? We could go on the holideck, or to Ten Forward, or we could go planetside I guess. You don’t have to pick something now, but… think of a date. Something we’d both enjoy, and get back to me, yeah?”

He nodded and stood again. I watched him go, strides long and even as always. Standing up from my desk was a challenge, and I collapsed into my chair, back slumped and arms dangling. At least my hot chocolate was still warm. Good god, this android is gonna be the death of me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like what you're reading, please consider leaving Kudos or comments, they mean the world to me!


	5. A Date on the Holodeck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Data takes Liz on a date on the holodeck. Sherlock Holmes, the wild wild west, or something else altogether? Yeah, definitely that one.

“Data to chief of operations.”

_Oh?_ I hadn’t seen Data at all for at least a week. I tapped the wall panel, curious. “Liz here. What’s up, Data?”

“Are you busy? I have finished formulating a ‘date’ scenario for us on the holodeck, if you would like to join me.” Why did my chest get tighter, my face hotter?

“Sure thing. I’ll meet you on holodeck three in twenty minutes?”

“Delightful. Data out.”

Oh god. It had been a hot minute since I had gone on a first date. Too long, it left me nervous and fidgety, fingers drumming and pulling at the fabrics of different dresses, shirts, skirts, pants, shawls… Was I seriously being this cliche about a date? I huffed and pulled on the dress closest to me, and the thick sweater material grounded me. Less frantic, more methodical calmness. I smoothed my hair, threw on some shoes, and let myself lounge for a few minutes before deciding that being a few minutes early wouldn’t be a bad idea.

The halls weren’t busy, but they weren’t empty either. I’d have preferred anything but this, with people looking at me in the hallways because they weren’t particularly focused on something else. A child ran past, and a younger sibling close behind was trying to grab for the stuffed toy he was holding. Relax. I didn’t need to psych myself out about this. Spending time with Data was usually easy, comfortable. Why that transporter never filtered out the sex pollen was beyond me, but it dodn’t stop me resenting it anyways. Why did a stupid microscopic particle have to make things weird with one of my friends? And why the fuck did I kind of like it?

Holodeck three. Data arrived just as I did, and I decided that that wasn’t such a bad thing after all. I could watch him approach and to say he swapped outfits was an understatement. Sleek shoes, a sweater tucked into dark pants. I let out a wolf whistle, throwing him a wink. “Someone cleans up nice, huh?” I elbowed his arm, clearly going for a light atmosphere. “Geordi told me you like to run through Sherlock Holmes simulations on the holodeck, but I never really could picture you outside of your uniform. But here we are, huh?” Why was my foot in my mouth?

“Does this outfit bother you?”

“No, Data, it means I think you look nice.” He did that adorable head tilt that he does, eyes twitching back and forth as he searched his databanks.

“I see.” His eyes finally focused on me again. “I was going to say that you look lovely, despite the social obligation to do so. Does that cheapen the sentiment?”

“No, Data. That’s very sweet. Shall we?” I gestured to the holodeck door and stepped forward.

They slid open to reveal a sleek cityscape, all rounded chrome corners and plants bursting with color tucked into every space. There were some short pedestrians, buying softly glowing flowers or ordering food from little mobile carts. I don’t know when my feet started moving forward, but I turned around when the whooshing of the arch behind us made me jump.

“Data, where are we? This place is amazing!”

He stepped beside me, and placed his hand gently along the dip in my back, to walk me down the street. “This is Mardulla center, on Plathoid Nine. The market here stretches for a few miles, and is surrounded with verdant gardens that eventually merge with nature.” I paused to inhale deeply by a food cart. The smell was savory, laced with spices I had never seen the likes of before. It reminded me of marinated steak, and was absolutely divine. “The Mardullans believe in absolute harmony, with nature, fellow beings, and themselves. I had the pleasure of visiting them on my previous posting.”

He stooped his head when a robed gentleman paused in front of him, and a beautifully woven flower crown was placed on his head. He thanked the man before turning back to me. “That was the village priest. We helped to root out an assassin in his temple, and blesses me every time I return. I suppose he is appreciative, although I do not understand why he does not bless the other members of the away team.” He looked wistful, like he was pondering something he couldn’t quite grasp.

I reached up for the crown, and he bent at the waist to let me reach it. It had been placed on him at an odd angle, and I straightened it, and flattened my feet from tiptoe. It caught me off guard when he didn’t straighten up, and instead leaned further down to place the barest brushes of a kiss against my cheek.

“What was that for?” My words came out soft, just above a whisper. My face was on fire, and I couldn’t help but look away from his golden eyes.

“A kiss is generally a sign of affection across cultures, and often serves as a-”

“I know all that, but why did _you_ do it?”

He looked confused, almost painfully so. “Was it unwanted? I apologize if it was. I simply wanted to express affection.” He looked ashamed, like he had done something wrong. Within seconds I had pulled him down into a bear hug, burying my face into the crook of his shoulder.

“I just don’t want you doing things just because you should.” I pulled away some, holding him at arm's length. “I want you to do things because you want to do them, not because you think someone expects it of you. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?” I couldn’t read his face, but he seemed to come to terms with something.

“I believe I do. You are worried that my actions are hollow, that they do not contain any personal meaning. If I do only what I’m expected, my actions are meaningless. I can assure you, I mean what I do. I may not have the capacity for emotions, but I recognize when my… heart is in something.” He was searching my face, trying to gauge my understanding of what he was saying.

“So you kissed me because… you felt like it?”

“Yes.”

_Oh._

I pulled him down once more, planting a gentle kiss to his mouth before spinning around and walking towards a booth selling flowers. “C’mon,” I called to him, already a few paces ahead, “let’s explore the market. I’ve never been here before, and I want you to tell me all about it!”

I could have sworn that he smiled, but I found myself unable to look at him long, overcome with a tight, warm feeling in the deepest parts of my chest.

He led me through the market, stopping to point out interesting shops or persons. We settled for a time at an open-air cafe, and the tea and juices they served were simply incredible. Complex, rich flavors, and something sweet that coated your tongue in the most delightful way. Data had no shortage of anecdotes about this place, and I found his take on them refreshing. It was so easy to become cynical and bitter about people, especially in his line of work, but he was always so perceptive, looking at things with the wonder of a child and the mind of a gentleman.

After the market came the gardens. Great swoops of ancient branches interspersed with hanging moss that reminded me of handspun lace, great bushes of flowers, sweet melons along creeping vines. An Eden, even if holographically projected. It didn’t take me by surprise when we came across a blanket, laid in the hollow of a hill. I stretched out on it, relishing in the soft grass underneath, the scent of blossoms and drifting smells of spices from the market not too far away. Data followed suit, laying so that his elbows were out and hands tucked under his head, utterly and completely relaxed.

“Did you program the clouds, too?”

“No,” came his soft reply, “the clouds on Plathoid Nine form like this naturally due to the upper atmosphere’s electric charge, which gives them that unique circular shape.”

“Data?”

“Yes, Liz?” He turned his head to face me, and once again I was met with that tight warm feeling in my breastbone.

“This has been one of the best dates I’ve ever been on. I’m really glad you deleted that romance program you had, ‘cause it was kind of atrocious. But this place,” I sighed, flopping back down on the blanket to find his shoulder under my head. “This place is perfect.” I curled into his side, letting my breath ghost across his chest and neck.

“I am glad you enjoy it as much as I do.” I felt his arm press lightly against my back, my waist. The weight of it there was comfortable, almost like they were meant to fit together like that.

“I take great comfort from your presence.”

“And I yours.”

I don’t know when our hands intertwined, but I missed the feeling as soon as we stood to leave. I didn’t have to go without it long, however. He wrapped his hand around mine as we began walking, tracing our path back through the garden and to the market, back through the cafe, back to the center where we had first stepped on. He lingered a moment, glancing around before halting the program and calling for the arch.

Our parting was a few hushed words, a near-silent promise that we should do something like this again soon, a kiss pressed to my lips that left my head spinning and my eyes tracing his receding form down the hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like what you're reading, please consider leaving Kudos or comments, they mean the world to me!


	6. An Incomplete Guide to Living Arrangements and Feelings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> who needs therapy when u can stick it in a fic about an android amiright ladies

Our date on the holodeck had begun a new era in my and Data’s relationship. Most dinners I spent with him, and we often sat next to each other in common areas doing work. We had begun holding hands in the hallways after a trial run hadn’t caused either of us undue embarrassment. (That was more his concern though; he was afraid that someone would ridicule me for dating an android.)

He had spent a couple nights in my quarters. Nothing unbecoming had happened, of course. He sat and read reports on his pad while I dozed on the bed next to him, and usually I woke to find my head in his lap. It was an odd feeling, but not at all unwelcome or unappreciated.

Once, after watching me stretch out after waking, he imitated the movements when he thought that I couldn’t see. I don’t think he realizes that I watch him often, enraptured by the fluidity of his motions, the expressions crossing his face. It was weird to think that he was learning human behaviors from me, but he learns them from everyone, so it’s not like all of his human-like quirks were sourced from me, myself, and I.

Of course, there were nights where I had woken on his couch, Spot firmly planted in my lap, him at his console running some hypothetical or another. It was a little draining to haul myself up and walk back to my quarters, and I know taking time to return to his to check on Spot was a source of some annoyance for both of us. So I broached the subject one night, snuggled into his hip under the covers.

“Data?”

“Yes, darling?” He had been experimenting with pet names, and this one couldn’t help but bring a smile to my face, pressed into the sheet to avoid having to explain it.

“Would you say that traveling back and forth between our quarters has increased the amount we need to walk during the day?”

“Yes. I assume there is a reason that you are asking that, and it is not to obtain the exact amount of time it has added.”

“Yes.” I scooted on the bed, laying my head back so it was in his lap and I was looking up at him. “How do you feel about moving in with me, dear?”

He tilted his head, eyes flicking back and forth, and I swear I could hear his circuitry whirring. He stayed like this a moment, thinking hard about my proposal.

“I believe that would be an adequate arrangement.”

“...That’s it?”

“I do enjoy our time together, and I often find myself more and more aware of your absence. Is that the general reaction you were hoping for?” His hand had begun brushing my hair back, running his fingers on my scalp, sending a tingle rushing through every strand.

“Only if you mean it.”

“Of course I mean it. I do not think I will ever understand why you cannot grasp that I am wholeheartedly invested in our relationship, and care deeply for you.”

I turned my face into his stomach. I couldn’t let my eyes betray me right now. I mumbled into his shirt, ashamed.

“I cannot understand you with your face in my torso. Would you like to sit up?” I complied, but instead of sitting back against the pillows, I laid back against him, chest pressed to back and his chin ghosting the hair on the top of my head. It took him a moment to settle into it, folding his hands across my stomach and letting his back unstiffen.

“Liz?”

“It’s easier to say this kind of thing if I don’t have to look at you. Um… I have chronically low self esteem, Data. That makes it hard for me to believe that anyone could genuinely care for me, especially romantic partners. It sort of makes me feel reassured when you express how you feel like that.”

“You know that I cannot feel-”

I cut him off before he could repeat his spiel as he had so many times before. “Maybe not in the way that humans do, or the way a Klingons or Vulcans or anything else we’ve encountered feels. But you _feel,_ Data. You care about Spot, you care about Geordi and the captain and _me,_ and the things you decide to do in your free time? Painting and music and everything on the holodeck. No completely emotionless android would do that, they’d do what is most efficient and beneficial. You have _opinions,_ and opinions mean you feel some way about something. You may not realize it, hon, but you have more emotional capacity than most men I’ve met. So don’t tell me you can’t feel.”

I rested my head back on his right shoulder, ending my tirade and focusing on the feeling of his arms around me instead of the heat in my cheeks and eyes.

“I feel… content. I look forward to moving into your quarters.”

I sighed, nuzzling further into his grasp and planting a kiss on his arm. “Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like what you're reading, please consider leaving Kudos or comments, they mean the world to me!


	7. Boyfriend's Sweater

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liz can't find her binder and has a panic attack. Data helps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on a panic attack I had recently lol

I flipped pieces of fabric back and forth with increasing agitation. Who cares if my dresser gets disorganized if I can’t find it?

The next drawer was not spared my searching. Shorts, undergarments, dresses went flying to different corners of the room, smooth creases disappearing into piles and piles.

I was left panting in the center of the room, head swinging back and forth for a glimpse. Something caught my eye in a distant mass, and I wasted no time flinging myself over and ruffling through it on my hands and knees.

My search was unsuccessful. Too much to look through coupled with my bodily discomfort left me a wheezing mass on the floor, surrounded in useless clothes. My breathing was erratic; had it gotten hotter in here?

“Why are you on the floor? And why are our quarters such a mess?” The soft question from the figure in the doorway did nothing to soothe me, to anchor me to reality.

I supposed I might have looked insane. A flushed and hyperventilating naked mess curled in tight with arms crossed over breasts, pressing them in like it would make them disappear, nestled in a swath of fabrics.

“I— I can’t— find my binder,” I managed to gasp out, burying my head in the sharp bones of my knees, unable to face whatever reaction this would illicit.

“I see. Where did you last have it? I have found that most people find retracing their steps to be an effective—“

“ _I don’t know,_ ” I wheezed, retracting inward to form a tight ball, trying to disappear from my body. If I was all pressed together like this, I convinced myself, I couldn’t feel the weight of my breasts, couldn’t see the curve of my legs when I walked. “I don’t know, I haven’t been a guy for a long time, so I don’t know. I don’t know, _I don’t know…_ ” My panting had turned to sobs, the panic and alienation hitting me like a great wave.

I gave into the firm hands that sat me up, pulled my face out of the comfort of my little ball.

“It is going to be alright.” The way his golden eyes looked directly into mine, the assured way he formed the words, they let me feel for an instant like it was true. And then I was hiccuping again, slumping forward to sob into the junction of his shoulder, grasping at the fabric of his uniform to pull him closer.

As always, he was slow to react to body contact, but one hand found my lower back while the other pressed soothing circles into my shoulder blades.

“We can replicate you a new one. If we happen to find it’s predecessor, then we have two that you can use whenever you need.” His calming speech continued, voice taking on a gentle lilt as he spoke. It took me a few minutes to calm down, to focus on the sound of his voice. It took me a while to realize that he was now elaborating on the many wonderful transgender and genderqueer men of history who used binders, who felt dysphoria in much the same way I did. It was grounding, to be reminded that I’m not alone in my struggles with a body that is sometimes not how I am in my brain.

I finally pulled back, wiping at my eyes with the heel of my palm.

“I’m sorry, Data, I know you didn’t ask to come home to two different kinds of messes. I’m sorry you had to pick me, the one person on the ship who can’t handle themselves at all when a little bit stressed about my body.”

“On the contrary. There are many individuals on this ship who experience and struggle with gender dysphoria, and—”

“Honey, I know, I know. I don’t mean it literally, I just mean… I’m a mess. And you didn’t ask for that.”

“I believe I did, when I asked you to begin a romantic endeavor with me. Now,” he said, standing up to his full length and pulling me up with him, “I will replicate you a binder. I assume all the specifications are the same?” The softest of smiles played at his lips, daring me forward to press my own against them.

“You know it babe. And… thank you.”

“Thanks is not necessary. I only wish to see you happy and comfortable.”

Half an hour later, Data pulled the zipper up my back in one fluid motion, faster and smoother than I ever could have myself. I refused to look in the mirror, but swung my arms around anyways, letting the binder adjust and settle before plucking a sweater from the piles scattered around.

Only after I had hidden my hair under a loose hat did I brave the mirror.

“Quite handsome,” he murmured, settling one arm across my shoulders. “However, this sweater is mine and very big on you. Would you like to select a different one?” He turned to look around the room. “Your clothing selection is readily viewable and—”

“Nope.” Came my elated reply. He stopped, and turned back to look at me. “I’m perfectly happy wearing my boyfriend’s sweater.” I stood on my tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek, then turned to start cleaning up the mess. “Care help your boyfriend out again, babe?” I tossed him a smile over one shoulder, arms already full of jeans and leggings and tunics.

How soft his eyes were, how delicately they crinkled at the corners. “How could I not?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like what you're reading, please consider leaving Kudos or comments, they mean the world to me!


	8. Welcome to the Roaring Twenties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Its 2020 and I'm all for bringing back trends from the 1920s, and what better way to do that than sending them on a holodeck date?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok im sexually frustrated so im making this a two parter fuck you

“All aboard!” a mustachioed conductor called across the crowded platform, ushering in the crowd of people to the train doors. The soft hand pressed in the curve of my back hesitated, giving me a choice between this train and the next.

“Chicago or Detroit? Both had thriving city scenes in the early twentieth century, particularly during the Roaring Twenties.” I flashed a smirk to the smartly dressed man beside me, taking in the slightly tilted dark panama and matching suit for a fraction of a second before grabbing his elbow and strolling forward.

“Chicago, I think. That’s where some of my ancestors were around this time, at least that’s what my mother said at some point. Who knows how accurate she is, but I’ll indulge in the fantasy for a little while.”

“If you would like, I can reconstruct your genealogy. Accessing birth records is no trouble at all, and it would require little time.”

I chuckled, patting his arm as we neared the steps of the platform. “No thanks, darling. I like to think of myself as a combination of cosmic forces instead of economic and political influences. We’re all made of the same ancient stardust, so who really cares if my great-great-whatever owned a soda jerk in 1926, you know?”

We kept up the idle chatter, and handed over our tickets to the conductor before stepping on board the train.

“Tight little tomato ya got there, guy,” the man said, handing Data back his punched ticket. “Don’t let another mug steal her away.” He winked at me, and I shrunk, just a little.

Data took a half step forward, and threw on one of his wonderful accents. “Listen, my squeeze an’ I are out for a grand time here, so buzz off before the bearcat,” he paused a moment to throw a thumb in my direction, “really puts a dent in your button.” The man turned away, sheepishly muttering something about breezing off.

I hooked my arm through his offered elbow once more before settling into my gait, the spring in my step more than returned. I held my tongue about his accent and slang, but I would let him know later exactly what it was doing for me.

The train ride was lovely, the countryside and buildings crawling by, with my goofy android spouting off facts about locomotion in the twentieth century, and how in this time period cars were beginning to replace trains as the primary form of travel in North America. Lunch was served at some point, a light sandwich and a strong cup of tea and a portion of fruit. The waiter had sneakily offered some booze hidden in his jacket with a wink, but I brushed him off without much thought. We were heading to a speakeasy after all, and though synthehol wouldn’t leave me too drunk or hungover, I still wanted to at least wait for evening before getting buzzed.

Our journey continued as the countryside slowly rolled by, the sun rapidly nearing the horizon as hours passed. It didn’t feel like hours, though, not with Data holding and caressing my hand, conversing about every possible subject. Eventually we settled into an easy silence, watching the city approach through the window. When the train finally pulled into the station, I picked my head up off his shoulder. We pushed our way through the crowds, glimpsing the red sun shining off of windows before the beautiful spread of 1920s Chicago was revealed to us. Buildings low and tall, windows and chrome bumpers and neon lights flickering on as dinnertime approached.

I pulled Data into a diner that he nearly passed, and ordered a quick dinner. I ate fast, efficiently. Dinner wasn’t the focus of this date, but dessert was excellent, if a bit cheesy. A milkshake with two straws, set down by the waitress with a wink. There was some hesitation on Data’s part to actually drink it, but I convinced him, citing the sensors on his tongue capable of determining individual chemical components. He got a kick out of that, and mentioned wanting to experiment with different flavors, determining which components changed the taste, and I barely managed to talk him out of ordering every milkshake on the menu. He was adorably confused until I pointed out the time: nine in the evening, the prime time to head to a speakeasy or a hop box. That perked him back up; he had promised to show me how to swing dance.

Finding an establishment was relatively easy. People were heading down side streets up and down the block, giving an effective map to illegal places, which surprised me. Were the police this lax about Prohibition laws? I knew that there was some police pushback against the alcohol ban, but after seeing this ‘historically accurate’ simulation with my own eyes, I couldn’t believe how far they turned the other cheek.

The side door we ducked into revealed a low, smoky room with a stage in one far corner. A jaunty jazz song was being plunked on the piano, and tables were sat along the edges of the room to leave space to dance. And dance there was, little groups of people swinging and wagging their fingers, twisting their hips and shaking their shoulders. Data’s eyes were alight; though he spent hours on the holodeck playing Sherlock Holmes mysteries and private eye stories with the captain, I don’t think he’d come to this time period before. If he had, this wasn’t an aspect he had previously encountered. His eyes were flicking around the room, mouth slightly agape and quirked upwards.

“C’mon,” I whispered into his ear, and pulled him to the dance floor. He picked up the beat quickly, showing me how to kick my feet in time, opposite of him. The small heels that I had thrown on were actually helpful. They helped me to bounce from one leg to the other, to pivot and stay on my toes. Soon my face was flushed, breathing quick and hard. Songs passed one right after the other, phasing in with my hammering heart.

Finally I had to stop. “Stop, Data, wait!” He stopped immediately, hands falling to his sides and feet returning to the floor. He started to say something, to ask me if something wrong, but I silenced him with my hand, pulling him towards a table and collapsing into a chair. “I have the worst lungs for this,” I chuckled breathlessly, and pressed the back of his hand to one red cheek, panted into his palm to illustrate my need for a break.

“I see,” he said, rubbing my arm gently. I don’t know where he snagged it, but he set a drink down in front of me. It was sweet and minty, and left my stomach aflame. I made a mental note to ask him later what exactly it was, to have another time.

We sat for a while, watching the other dancers, commenting on moves we hadn’t seen before, watched as musicians switched out on stage. I caught my breath, and pushed Data towards the piano. He sat there for a moment, eyes flicking back and forth as he searched for whatever song he wanted to play. As the soft, slower notes began, I hopped up onto the top of the piano, ecstatic to recognize the song, and remember the lyrics.

And I began to sing. A little hesitantly at first, but the adoring look on Data’s face left me feeling braver than the hair of the dog ever could.

_Pack up all my cares and woes_  
_Feeling low, here I go_  
_Bye, bye blackbird_

Surprisingly, my voice came out low and smooth, ringing clearly through the room as couples began slow dancing. The accompaniment was lovely, long slender fingers pressing keys with impossible accuracy and firmness, notes husky and reverberating through my chest. I had settled onto the piano, legs dangling and torso propped up sideways on one elbow. It put my face just above Data’s, letting me trail my hand along his shoulder, to stroke a line down his jaw. Halfway through the song, I stole his hat, tilting it precariously on my head.

As the song drew to a close and the notes faded into silence, I jumped off the piano, waved the hat into a deep bow, and pulled Data up from his seat to make him take a bow, too. We only stayed in the applause for a moment before I pulled him into a side room cluttered with covered tables and chairs. Storage maybe, or maybe this was an auction house. I didn’t know and I didn’t care, not with my cheeks and thighs ablaze with want.

I kissed him a moment after the door had closed behind him. It was a hard kiss, but kissing is something he’d had practice at. He’d become talented in the action, but aside from some light petting, we hadn’t done much physically.

What he _had_ practiced became apparent as we continued, his motions becoming less sure and more jerky as we approached uncharted territory. His hand on my breast, for example, was applying light pressure, but was completely still. I had previously greatly enjoyed showing him _exactly_ what I liked and how, but I desperately wanted him to take control for once, to show some initiative in giving me physical pleasure.

I had roughly shoved him into a chair and straddled him, and as our kissing and groping became more intense, the familiar sensation of his hardening cock pressed between my thighs spurred me on, encouraged my hips to begin a lazy looping grind against the hot firmness. One particularly enthusiastic downward roll of my hips made him tense, giving my breast a firm squeeze. Hearing my breathy gasp made his eyes fling open, taking in my wretched appearance.

“Do you like that?” He said softly, giving a softer, teasing squeeze. I could only bite my lip and nod, knowing that the dilation in his eyes was reflected in my own, incapable of words as his new exploration began.

And explore he did, with his hands and tongue and lips and teeth along my neck, my shoulders, my breasts and stomach. My dress had ended up on the floor at some point, discarded and forgotten on the concrete floor. Data reveled in his discoveries, taking in every sigh, every moan and soft _please,_ every _more, god, yes._

His fingertips were playing along the hem of my underwear, my hands reaching to undo the button on his slacks when the sound of his communicator made our breathing silent, holding back our panting and gasps as he fished the badge out of his pocket and tapped it.

“Data here. Please repeat message.”

“I said, Riker to Data. You’re needed on the bridge. We’ve encountered some… problems that we could use your help with.”

“...I am on my way.”

I pouted, crossing my arms across my exposed chest as he lifted me easily and set me back on the ground. His suit was quickly smoothed of wrinkles, my dress thrown back on in a hurry. He called for the arch, and paused before walking to it.

“I apologize that my duties are interfering with our intimacy. Perhaps you would like to continue when I am done?” A hand was held out, and I took it. He pulled me into a tight embrace, my face angled up to look right into his eyes.

“I’d like that very much.” He smiled then, a quick flash, before ducking his head down to press a kiss to my lips. And then he was gone, leaving me in a paused holodeck program, alone and unsatisfied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like what you're reading, please consider leaving Kudos or comments, they mean the world to me!


End file.
